WYOCMWYH?
by scathingsarcasm
Summary: Plot;; When ever Alex get's high she finds a phone in her hand. A drabble set to the AM song Why'd you only call me when you're high. "But the words aren't ones you want to hear. Voicemail was never who you expected to answer." This is un-beta-ed Trigger warning;; drugs, drug-use, hallucinations.Words;;1,207


Basically my rambling angstly

Plot;; When ever Alex get's high she finds a phone in her hand. A drabble set to the AM song Why'd you only call me when you're high.

"But the words aren't ones you want to hear. Voicemail was never who you expected to answer."

This is un-beta-ed

Trigger warning;; drugs, drug-use, hallucinations.

Words;;1,207

Fingertips line violet rims, water coloured black eyeliner curls around their edges, smudges blur the two violent colours against her sickly iridescent ivory skin. The whole image seems sick and she feels herself plucking at the sickly flesh she spies in the mirror. Pain radiates from pulled cheeks, their flesh blotchy, faded patches of rose stand solitary along marble carved cheekbones. The pain doesn't leave and she supposes the reflected silver mirror shows herself. The sickly woman in the mirror laughs, her features fade as she blurs under her own halogen halo. Seconds come and go, the maniacal laughter never falters. Her features are curved and every movement seems cartoonish. Her eyes are black, pupils eclipse emerald shades. It takes a minute to remember that woman is you.

'You should go home.' The prefrontal part of your brain whispers as you sleek away from the silver screen. The image clears your eyes and you know that you should. That person isn't you and you don't want it to be. A year ago you would have hated yourself, the woman chuckles once more in your peripheral, as this thought graces your mind.

Fahri is blurred, his words are no longer his own. But neither are yours. Words are exchanged, joyful, mournful goodbyes are wept, false emotions leak form your bloodstream to the surface.

Leather clings to your frame, its second skin protecting you little from the icy tendrils of the night. The velvet night curls around you, its frame shallow and hollow. It clings to you, its weight against your own withering frame. Stiletto's echo on the pavement, womanish giggle infiltrates your fractured mind and for a second your mind rewinds. A flash of blonde leaves you reeling, eyes clings to the mono-toned cemented land which lies beneath your own pointed shoes. Giggles multiple and you feel like their presence is more than that. Their demon tones grow limbs and they cling to your own swan like neck. Their touch once tender, a stroke, then they clutter and you feel asphyxiated. The world swims before you, monotones swivel and shake. They fade out of shades and become fifty, mono's become multiples. Weighted eyes climb skyward, the blonde is there still. Giggling with a man, but she's not your blonde. The hands fade. Breath leaks into concave lungs, you feel free again.

A heavy appendage lands in your hand, its luminous face beams a three. Nimble fingers speed faster than your mind does. Muscle memory, you'd read about that once. You find her face and numbers with a practiced ease. The woman in the mirror turns maniac again, as fingers find letters. Your mind is hazed by the illuminating block which spells out words that flow all too quickly.

 **PIPES;;**

 **{I thought I saw you today. There was a girl, she laughed like you and she was golden like you.}**

 **SENT;; 03:43**

Feet tumble forward, the appendage lies limp in one hand, its Times Square screen gone. Constellations lie among the air, hung on black stalks they stand over you, shrouding you in shadows. An outlined woman follows you shakily, her feet uneven as she crossed the nebula's one by one. Her limbs copy your own as fingers crawl jaggedly though obsidian locks, your tongue falls mockingly to the copycat.

The veins of streets cross, arteries swapping the cells. You'd forgotten your way. {You'd forgotten when you were. London? Bali? Paris? You're not even sure anymore. Plane rides blurred in a fog of crawling out and falling into the lenient palms of sleep.}

For a second you forget, maybe not even that, maybe you pretend, that she's still here and she's waiting for you. Her sunkissed body covered in Egyptian, drowning oceanic sapphires rest behind heavy lids as she sleeps in sheet smothered in your sent. You'd whisper in, shoes in hand. Her clothes littler the floor, you crawl in. Skin on skin. She'd purr as you slipped between sheets, feathered lashes would peep open, a lazy Cheshire grin would capture innocently slumber soaked features. Words would curve over plump flesh and she'd whisper the three sweetest words you'd ever savoured.

The image fades. Your sheets lie unmade and empty in a room you can't recall. In a country you'd sleepwalked into.

Fingers find the appendage again, it highlights phantom features. Owlish eyes flicker, lids briefly shield venerable eclipsed irises. This time no words fall, no letters are forced together. Her image crowds the brightness, her liquid summer essence almost blinding. You flick a green button. A shrill sound covets ears and you wait. The shadowed copycat also holds an appendage, you vaguely hope she has better luck.

Her voice steals your mind. Contentment bubbles under flushed skin, cornflower veins buzz with something finally natural. You feel your own lips curve. Only the voice isn't hers. The voice is happy younger Piper, a girl who doesn't exist anymore. A girl you destroyed. Her older persona doesn't speak, but this one chirps. But the words aren't ones you want to hear. Voicemail was never who you expected to answer.

People pass your now frozen figure. Their faces mutate under the stars. A man sways, his features multiple. Hawk like quadruple eyes gaze at you, you feel your soul bared as they linger over your own shallow figure. You hit a red button. Her voice fades, you feel a vibe of solidarity you hadn't felt in years. Quadruple eyes microscope under your skin, it feels like he can read every vein. Every joyful forced feeling and every slaughtering real one. Heeled toes tip toe away. Your own eyes flicker back as you're carried away. His eyes are dual. Shuddery limbs of shadows trail behind you.

Amber lights suddenly have feet planted once more. Multiple shop faces of empty corrugated shutters have passed. You're stood on tarmac. Perplexion resounds on skin, darkened brows draw closer. A loud horn cuts through air. Bared teeth glint from beyond a slight window, a glossy bumper passes. You're on pavement again.

 **PIPES;;**

 **{I REALLY FUCKING MISS YOU PIPER XXXXX I WISH YOU'D COME BACK XXXXX}**

 **SENT;; 5:59**

Emeralds peal open. Trails of eyeliner tainted silver crawl over pallid features. Heaving breaths scar your throat. Feet touch tarmac, but thighs linger on pavement. Eyelines lingers on other bumpers. Goose bumps claim free expanses of skin, skin which graces gum chewed slabs of cement. Stiletto's sit cross legged beside you. Tangerine flourishes of wind whipped clouds peak from behind silver and opaque sky scrapers. A tangible pain rattles from within your greymatter, your mind feels equivocally heavy. You already know where the path last night lead you. Nimble ivory fingers trail a leather pocket. There's a solitary text stood amongst numbers of a seven. You know whos words they are before you view them and You know exactly what they will read. A cycle of exchanged words, a cosmic karma which sticks strictly to its rules. Trails become streams. Silver glossy ribbons adore your features all too quickly, tails of them fall on the screen. Clouding all too inevitable words. Your chest feels concave behind corporeal ribs. A heaved breath falters as fingers press on the name.

 **YOU;;**

 **{Why'd you only call me when you're high?}**

 **RECEIVED;; 6:01**


End file.
